The Boy in the Mirror
by klixxy
Summary: Fullmetal Alchemist RoyEd dance/ghost AU. Roy has danced all his life, and when one day, he stays late after class in the dim practice room, desperately trying to figure out how to do a move correctly, he finds a boy in the mirror that changes his life. Rated T for Ed's mouth.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Roy tried again, this time reaching out further with his feet, sharply pulling himself up with a twitch of his back afterwards. Sweat glistened on his forehead, the small droplets almost invisible in the darkness, the only pair of lights in the back of the room, the dim lights fading in and out as his shadow danced with his body from the floor.

Why couldn't he get this move right?!

He glared at the mirror angrily, dark eyes boring into his movement through the glass, trying to find where he was going wrong.

He swung his shoulders back again, bending down to graze his fingers on the floor before flicking himself back up, vision swaying with his body as he flowed with the rhythm blasting on the speakers.

He leaped into the air, flying for a seconds before gravity took him again, his hair flinging into his eyes.

He couldn't take his eyes off of the mirror, trying desperately to fix his posture, but unable to find that exact place, that exact timing, that moment when everything would be absolutely perfect.

As Roy grimaced at the mirror murderously, he caught a flash of beautiful, untainted gold.

Freezing, he stared at the pool of swirling gold, the fire in those depths capturing his undivided attention.

His brained tried to register what exactly he was seeing in the darkness, and failed, eyes only able to register the blazing gold in the mirror.

Confused, his brain worked its gears.

There was nothing in this room that could show a gold like that.

The room was empty, filled with shadows and sweat and music, but with no sign of life other than the black haired man dancing through the dark.

Slowly, his eyes adjusted to take in the big picture. It was a boy.

It was a boy like he had never seen, brilliant gold irises cutting through the twilight and piercing through his soul.

The boy stared back at him, and for a long moment, the room was filled with white noise, silent other than the music lazily drifting from his speakers in the corner.

A voice cut through the moment, rough as knives but childish and innocent as a young teen. Which he was.

"You're doing it wrong." Roy gaped, body frozen, brain going in circles as he became lost in the boy, the boy with the golden hair and beautiful voice.

The boy sighed angrily, delicate features scrunching up in distaste.

"You need to move your head faster, and you need to put more force and speed into your spin. And make sure to land gently and smoothly with that flick."

Before Roy could even process what the boy had said, he was already moving, his body following the instructions on autopilot, muscles and body trained over the years ready for the movement that almost came naturally.

The next thing he knew, the world was flying around him, the gold eyes the only thing that stood out in the world of black and grey, burning through his body, expertise in the worn body that could only be of a dancer.

And then he was up, right on the beat, and he was panting, panting, body still flowing perfectly, so, incredibly perfectly that his failure before felt like a faraway dream.

The boy ran a critical eye over him, memorizing his movements and adding more tips along the course of the entire choreography, and Roy felt his body moving of its own accord, easily shifting to the correct posture.

"You need more strength to your roll you idiot! Do you even know how to dance?!"

The sharp words connected, but they had no sting to them, Roy's body only able to follow the commands, letting his body go with the music, one with the world of skin on the floor and the feeling of the air was he whipped through it, legs pumping, arms flicking and sliding easily through the hard dance moves with the help of his new coach.

It was all too soon when the music came to an end.

He stood there, panting, the feeling that had come to him slowly leaving as he stood there, glancing, surprised, at the boy in the mirror.

The boy scanned him, up, down, up, down.

He longed for that world again. That world where it was only him and the music. Him and the music and the boy.

The world where he danced, beat ringing in his ears, eyes slipping through the passing scenes around him, sweat sliding down his face as his sensitive skin tingled with delight.

He wanted it again. He needed to feel it again.

The next song came on, the intro starting on his speakers.

He stared expectantly at the boy, unable to bring himself to start without him.

With one dance, this boy had opened up Roy's heart. With one dance, this boy had made Roy feel like he had never felt before.

Just….. Who was this boy?

"What are you doing just standing there?! Dance you weirdo, dance!"

And so he did, again and again and again. Lost in the flow of the music and the words of the boy.

It only seemed like a few minutes before sunlight was slowly pouring into the music room, some early birds chirping tiredly outside of the window in the chilly February air.

Reluctantly, Roy stopped, frowning unhappily as he made his way to his speakers, pausing the music, leaving him feeling empty without it.

He looked back at the boy as he rubbed at his face with his towel, grimacing as he gripped his school bag, trying to drag out the time as much as possible.

But, soon, he found himself packed and having to leave.

He glanced at the boy one last time as he headed out of the door of the practice room, the heavy handle creaking as he pulled.

As he walked away, down the hall, all that he could think of was melting, fiery gold.

It wasn't until he got home that Roy realized that there had never been anybody in the practice room. There had been nobody in there with him.

The boy… had only existed inside of the mirror.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

It had been exactly two weeks, 6 hours, and 32 minutes since he had seen the boy. Unconsciously, Roy found himself counting the time since he had last seen those determined golden eyes.

Every day Roy would race into that dingy practice room, filled with dust and cobwebs, but holding the memory of the boy.

Every day Roy would dance there,sometimes to that same song he had danced to with _him,_ searching for a flash of gold inside the mirror.

Every day Roy would only find an empty room, music echoing loudly, too loudly inside the room, only a vacant mirror to dance with him.

Roy felt different, almost as if he had found a part of himself, only to have to snatched away from him again. He would dance the move he had mastered with the help of the boy, but the move would feel empty, not a single ounce of the perfectness he had felt. After all, the boy wasn't there to guide him through it, rough voice carefully finding the perfect angles and the perfect timing.

Roy longed for that again. Longed for the boy again, so that he could feel like that again, dance like that again. So that he could feel whole and bursting with energy.

As time continued onwards, the sun still shining, the wind still blowing, and life still ran its course. But for Roy, he couldn't see any of it. Anytime he would look up at the sun, its beautiful rays of sunshine felt desolate and ugly compared to the gold of those eyes and the sleek gold blonde hair.

He would feel the wind pull through his own hair, but it felt indifferent and unwelcoming compared to the feeling as he danced with the boy, the air caressing his figure warmly.

As another week passed by slowly, taunting him, Roy felt the fangs of desperation starting to close in around him, flashes of those burning gold eyes appearing in his dreams.

And finally, when he couldn't take it any longer. He went there, the same day, Tuesday, wearing the same clothes, at the same time, with the same song, and the same move, in the same spot. He tried to make every single thing he could think of the exact same as the time when he had first seen the boy.

And, finally, when the clock struck 11:43, there was a slight flicker in the dirty mirror, and there was the boy, in all of his glory, staring at him, surprised.

"What, you're here again?!"

Roy felt himself grinning wildly at that, the boy's voice sending shivers up his spine.

Unable to stop himself, Roy stopped dancing, running towards the mirror, the smile still plastered across his face as he yelled happily.

"IT'S YOU!"

The boy's eyes widened, gaping as he stared at Roy, who was happily pressed against the cold glass mirror.

"W-What the-" The boy stayed stock still, golden eyes still incredibly wide as a beautiful blush slowly started to crawl onto his fluffy cheeks.

Roy caught himself, stepping back, his smile slipping into his usual smirk.

"Sorry about that."

The boy tried to quickly recover his torn composure.

"I- you bastard! What the hell?!"

Roy narrowed his eyes as his devilish smirk grew wider yet on his face.

"Sorry, truly am, I just couldn't help it. You're just so beautiful you see."

The boy scrunched up his small nose in disgust, trying to stop his blush from spreading any further but failing dramatically.

"You're a pervert. A gay pervert."

"I pride myself on it."

The boy spluttered, trying to find a good comeback.

"I- you- but- Anyway, didn't you come here to dance?" The boy huffed angrily, glaring holes through his head.

Roy sighed, feeling accomplished. That was enough teasing for now.

"Yeah, I guess."

When Roy didn't move from his spot, waiting expectantly for the outburst that was sure to come, Ed gave him what he was waiting for.

"Come on, you perverted bastard! Not confident in your dancing skills? Afraid that you'll be worse than me? Ha! Well you should!" When the blonde jeered at him, Roy smiled silently, quickly sending a retort back at the teen.

"Well at least I'm not a shortie like you!"

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT YOU COULDN'T SEE HIM WITH A MICROSCOPE!"

"You!" He yelled back, laughing, as he turned up the volume, drowning out whatever feisty response the boy screamed back.

And then he was there again, in that world with his music and his dancing. Where everything was absolutely perfect, bathed in vibrant explosions of color.

His heart overflowed with unidentified emotions, bursting in his chest to thump out a golden melody.

He was here dancing a balad with a beautiful boy. Sure, the boy may only exist here, at this time, in that mirror, but he was there nevertheless, he was here, with him.

Roy twisted happily, hearing the criticizing words of the boy and fixing it immediately.

Roy felt like he had found something that had been missing, something that made him… him.

This was his real home. This was where he belonged. He was real here, in his own reality, in this small, dark dance room, with the mirror…. And the boy.

And again, while he was lost in that beautiful world of movement, time raced forwards, faster than a speed train.

And yet again, all too soon. The sun was peeking mischievously above the horizon.

Soon, he was packed and ready to leave again, to leave his safe haven, to leave the boy.

But as he reached the door, he turned to back to have one more conversation with him.

"I searched for you before, on other days and other times. Why is it you only appear now?"

The boy stared at him for a silent moment, seemingly contemplating on whether to tell him or not. Then he answered.

"I only appear on Tuesdays, at 11:43."

Roy looked back at him, smiling.

"Then I'll have to come back here next week then."

The boy stared at him, almost as if he didn't know how to react to what he had said.

Then, a small, almost invisible blush stretched onto his face.

"Fine, you bastard, you need someone to teach you how to dance properly anyway! You have two left feet, I swear!"

Chuckling, Roy left the dance studio, unable to wait until next week.

Tuesday was now his favorite day of the week.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Roy sat at his house, feet tapping out an impatient rhythm against the hard floor, eyes glued to the clock, the handle seeming to tick slower than a snail.

He was stuck in contemplation, lost in the memories where he was there with the boy.

It was a Tuesday night after all.

There were only a few hours until he could see _him_ again.

 _Roy leaned against the mirror, breathing heavily, gulping down water like it was the only thing keeping him alive._

" _Did I tire you out, bastard?"_

 _Roy turned his head slightly to look at him._

" _You wish."_

 _The boy grimaced, determined eyes glaring bullets through his head._

 _Roy laughed as the boy continued to glare at him defensively, muttering something along the lines of_

" _Cocky bastard….."_

 _Then a question entered his mind._

 _All this time, he had been calling him "the boy", and heavens knows what the boy had been calling him._

 _Maybe "the man" or "the bastard"._

 _Roy quietly chuckled to himself. That definitely sounded like something he would do._

 _As Roy walked over to his speakers to review the choreography for the next song, he found himself asking the question lingering in his mind._

" _Hey, what's your name?"_

 _As he cranked up the speakers, He waited for an answer. When he was left with an uneasy silence, he awkwardly tried to dissipate it._

" _Oh… uh….. I'm Roy Mustang, by the way. You can call me Roy, Mustang, bastard….. Anything you want."_

 _When there was still no answer but the deafening silence from the boy, Roy looked up from his work, worriedly looking back at the mirror._

 _In the dim light, the boy was staring at the ground sadly._

 _And when the boy finally looked up to meet his eyes, it was as if the inferno inside of them had died._

" _I… my name… its…."_

 _As Roy held his gaze, he tried to make himself sound as welcoming as he could._

" _Go on….. It's alright."_

" _My name is…." The boy paused, looking pained. As he glanced at Roy dejectedly, seemingly unable to form the words._

" _Just… call me Al." Al looked away, pained gaze staring at a cold, dark corner, seeing something that was out of his sight._

 _For some reason, the name felt wrong, different, almost foreign on his tongue._

" _If you don't want to tell me your real name, that's alright."_

 _The boy's head snapped up, surprise flitting onto his face for a moment as he met Roy's calm eyes._

 _Roy smiled softly, calmly, differing so much from his normal smirk._

" _I hope someday you can tell me your real one."_

…

 _Roy sat peacefully next to the boy during his break. Closing his eyes, he could feel the thumping of the music pump through his veins, almost like a heartbeat._

 _The boy walked over and crouched down next to him._

" _Whatcha listening to, you idiot?" There was a hint of fondness in the boy's voice. Roy smiled._

" _Just some hip hop." For a moment he fingered one of his earphones, wishing he could somehow stick this in the boy's ears too._

" _Hmmm. Interesting choice, bastard." He knew that the boy was only putting on an act. He needed to look tough, but he wished he could listen with him._

 _Roy popped one earphone out, holding it up to the boy._

" _Do you wanna listen?"_

 _The boy spluttered for a moment, surprise and hope slipping onto his face for just a millisecond._

" _You idiot! I can't- I'm in a fucking mirror! How am I supposed to-"_

 _Smirking softly at the boy's antics, he pressed one earbud against the frame of the glass, slightly unsure if it was going to work._

 _For a moment, as the boy cut himself off, the boy looked hopeful. How long had it been since he had last heard music flowing through his ears?_

 _When the boy deflated unhappily, Roy found himself deflating with him, just as sad and defeated as the boy._

 _Then an idea popped into his head. It was ridiculous, completely and utterly crazy and not even really good, but he found himself doing it anyway._

 _It was for the boy after all._

 _He was rapping._

 _He couldn't rap for his life. Whenever he tried it sounded too raspy and slow, never meeting the beat. That was why he tried never to rap in public. In reality, he enjoyed rapping. When he was alone, that is._

 _But for once, he found that he could rap freely in front of another person. It still sounded like a dying mouse, mind you. But he didn't feel embarrassed. He felt happy._

" _Did you see my bag? Did you see my bag?" The beat dropped along with the boy's jaw as Roy's mouth moved along with the words. Even Roy felt shocked at himself as he rapped to the strong lyrics._

" _It's hella trophies and it's hella thick" The boy stared at him, a number of emotions flickering across his face._

" _What'd you think 'bout that? What'd you think 'bout that?" A grin finally settled itself onto the boy's face._

" _I bet it got my haters hella sick." As Roy got into the song, bobbing his head randomly to what he hoped was the right beat, a beautiful sound entered his ears, making him falter for a moment._

 _The boy was laughing. Truly, just right out, genuinely laughing. It was carefree and happy, a musical and, strangely, heart-wrenching sound._

 _The words died on his lips as he listened in wonder, an earbud falling to the ground in his awe._

 _Then, as if he had just realized that he had stopped rapping, he fumbled to get back to the lyrics._

" _Come and follow me- uh- um, something something signs up" The boy, if possible, seemed to laugh harder at that, as Roy flailed his arms a bit trying to focus on the next lyrics of the rap. Why couldn't he remember….. His gaze landed on the boy again, and he gaped widely, admiring that laugh._

 _Then he realized he was doing it again._

" _Oh shit- uh firin… something- uh- time?" Tears welled up in the boy's eyes as the laugh continued to tumble out of his mouth relentlessly._

" _Uh- god- running and running- something- catch?" The boy was on his knees, pounding at the ground lightly with his fists in his fit of boisterous laughter._

" _How you dare, how you dare, how you dare."_

 _Roy continued to try to remember the lyrics that were evading him._

 _Finally, as the song continued on in his ear, he gave up, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat._

" _Fuck, whatever, at least I tried."_

 _The boy still continued to giggle a little on the floor in the mirror, bringing a small smile to Roy's face as well._

" _What's so funny, huh shortie? You think you can do better?"_

 _The boy straightened up, gasping for air._

" _Who- you calling- short?!" He managed to speak between his desperate gulps of air._

 _Then, with his blinding smile on his face, he stared straight at him._

 _Roy felt his breath catch in his throat._

…

" _Hey…. Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"_

 _The boy looked back, confused._

" _Uh….. sure."_

 _Roy took a deep breath, unsure of what his next question would do._

" _How… did you die?"_

 _The boy gasped softly, gaze moving to the floor._

 _Roy found himself staring at the boy sadly. It was an awfully personal question. But… he really wanted to know. He thought that he deserved to know._

" _I….." The boy looked back up at him, looking determined._

" _I'll tell you." Roy's eyes widened, surprised, feeling very honored._

 _After all, the boy was trusting him with this information._

" _I… I suicided." The boy somehow managed to get through that sentence without moving his eyes from Roy's._

 _Roy felt a chill sink into his bones as, for a moment, his heart stopped in shock._

 _The boy's words flowed from his lips like a waterfall, and those eyes stared at him until the end._

 _ **When I was younger my father left the family. I don't know exactly why he did it, but I'll never forgive him.**_

 _ **My mother was sad a lot afterwards, feeling loss for him, but believing that he would come back.**_

 _ **Whenever we did a complex dance move, she would smile and ruffle our hair, praising us, and we would feel so proud…. we loved our mother very, very, much. Me and my younger brother….. Al**_

 _ **She was the light of our lives.**_

 _ **And then an epidemic swept through our town, and…... our mother died.**_

 _ **My brother fell into deep depression, and the both of us tried our best to cope on, dancing being our only salvation. Some days we would dance until we collapsed onto the floor, complete deadweight.**_

 _ **And then my brother and I started cutting. It seemed like the only possible thing we could do.**_

 _ **That's where we went wrong.**_

 _ **My brother gave up. He killed himself.**_

 _ **Here in this very dance studio that we used to come every single day. Here, where a part of our souls, alight with music and rhythm always lived.**_

 _ **He died right there, hung himself in that very corner.**_

 _ **When I found him, I went crazy. He had been the only thing I'd had left.**_

 _ **I tried to continue living, tried to see the good in the world, but I couldn't, so the very next day, I came here and I cut myself with a shard of this very mirror until the world went black.**_

 _ **The next thing I knew, I was in here.**_

 _ **At first I thought that my suicide had failed.**_

 _ **But when I realized that I was inside of a mirror, unfeeling and unable to breath…..**_

 _ **I wasn't bitter.**_

 _ **This was my punishment.**_

 _ **I was to stay here for all of eternity to suffer for my sins.**_

 _Roy felt tears fall from his eyes as he stared at the dead, blank gold still gazing at him._

 _Here was a soul._

 _A cracked, broken soul._

 _Just like him._

…

 _The sunlight flitted through the open window, and, as always, Roy frowned unhappily at the prospect that he had to leave once again._

 _But as he headed towards the door, sighing, a question flitted into his mind._

" _Hey….. where do you go when it's not a Tuesday night?"_

 _The boy looked at him curiously, brows furrowed._

" _Well…. I'm not sure if_ _ **you'd**_ _understand, you idiot bastard, but it's like I'm floating in a plain of….. Nothing."_

 _Roy turned back around, intrigued._

" _Nothing? How can there just be nothing? There isn't anything at all? What color is nothing then? Black?"_

 _The boy grimaced, drilling holes through him._

" _You're so clueless. It's white, of course. And there are these gates, but every time I try to get near them, this bastard, even weirder than you just keeps pushing me back."_

" _It doesn't even have a body. It's like… a fuzzy outline with only a mouth. No eyes, no nose, no nothing. It calls itself Truth. It's even more psycho than you, can you believe that?!"_

" _Gates? I wonder what they are…"_

 _The boy snorted, unimpressed._

" _So idiotic. They're obviously like a doorway to heaven or something like that shit. I don't believe in god, but I'd have to say that Truth guy is the closest thing I can think of."_

 _Roy nodded, mind moving miles per minute._

" _Yeah, from what you've described, that seems likely."_

 _Then a strange thought popped into his head._

" _Hey… don't you get lonely there, alone, by yourself?"_

 _The boy hesitated for a moment, stuttering a little, seemingly caught off guard with that question._

" _N-No! Why the fuck would I get fucking lonely?! You ask the craziest questions I swear."_

 _Roy frowned._

 _Okay then, he got lonely._

" _Can you hear anything from the outside world when you're there?"_

 _The boy looked even more confused with the sudden topic change, but he answered his question anyways._

" _No….. Not really, but I can sometimes feel presences, like, I can tell if you've been by. You always feel so dirty, like sweat. Do you even wash properly?!"_

 _Roy blanched, he was so straight-forwards sometimes….. Like, he dances all the time, so he always did smell like sweat but no need to say it like that…_

 _He sighed, rolling his eyes._

" _No shit sherlock, I do dance for a living you know."_

" _Sheesh, I probably know it better than you, bastard."_

 _Roy composed himself again, settling his usual smirk back onto his face as his resolve became clearer._

" _Well, since you're obviously lonely alone, shortie, I guess I'll just have accompany you here all the time then."_

" _WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT YOU COULDN'T SEE HIM, EVEN THROUGH A MIRROR?!" The response was almost instantaneous, as though it was instinct just to reply back through yells at the word 'short'._

 _Then the boy seemed to realize what Roy had said._

" _What?!"_

 _Roy smirked even wider, reveling at the expression on the boy's face._

" _Why, shrimp, I said that I'll be accompanying you here a lot."_

 _Shaking his head, the boy barely seemed to acknowledge that he had called him a shrimp, instead gaping at his words._

 _Then, as if he was unsure how to reply, the boy looked to the side, trying to plaster a nonchalant expression onto his face._

" _Huh, I don't need you to stay with me, you bastard!... But, I guess since I can't stop you, you can come here from time to time."_

 _If possible, Roy smirked even wider._

 _And so that was how Roy came to spend his afternoons at the studio, blasting hip hop on his speakers while ignoring his growing pile of homework._

 _And sometimes, rarely, Roy thought he could hear the boy's laugh echo through the empty room._

…

Roy ran, wind whipping through his hair, his legs burning a bit as he rushed down the streets.

He couldn't wait any longer.

He was going to go there, a whole 2 hours early, and wait for him to appear.

It was crazy, after all, what would he even do for two hours straight?

He wouldn't dance, that was out of the question.

Dancing was for him and the boy to do together. Roy would never be able to dance alone, especially not in that practice room.

Of course, he would never even go near touching that devil called homework either.

He had no idea at all what he was going to do when he got there.

But nevertheless, he was going.

Exhilaration pumped through his veins again as he remembered the boy's smile.

Roy felt free, happy, as if someone had drugged him with the boy.

The boy's laughter rang in his ears as he ran through the dark streets of his home at night.

The lampposts flickered, dull in comparison to the brilliant gold of the boy's hair.

As the boy smirked at him in his mind, Roy through his head back, dizzy with happiness.

And he laughed. It was genuine, pure, and happy.

As his legs raced on to their destination, Roy continued to giggle, high on the invisible drug that the boy had struck onto him.

Whatever this drug was, Roy was happy.

He loved it, it was better than anything that he'd ever felt.

This beautiful, devastating drug called love.


	4. Chapter 3 (and a half)

CHAPTER 3.5

It had been exactly 4 months since he had first met the boy.

It had been exactly 4 glorious months of happiness.

It had been exactly 4 months.

Roy should have known better.

He should have known that nothing in his life would ever work out.

He should have known that this would have come.

He should have known…

If only he hadn't met the boy maybe this wouldn't have happened.

Someone was screaming, howling into the night sky.

The sound was heartbreaking, animalistic; a roar of grief and rage.

It took at moment for him to realize that he was the one screaming.


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Roy walked through the empty building, an eerie silence ringing in his ears.

The halls were dark and filled with shadows, but Roy gave it no thought.

It was like this every night he came here, after all.

As he climbed the stairs that were drenched with silver moonlight, he sighed, completely at peace.

Yes, this was his world, and his world only.

This was his place, his dimension.

He knew the halls like the back of his hand, knew the shadows that stretched through the darkness like old friends.

He reveled in this world of silence and undisturbed peace, calm and happy.

He looked down the hall towards where the boy was undoubtedly waiting for him.

His footsteps echoed throughout the building like a heartbeat, pulsing in his ears.

He expertly dodged a spider-web dangling from the ceiling as he passed, quickly heading towards the door at the far end of the corridor.

As he reached the halfway point, Roy felt something that he had never felt in his quiet world before.

He felt it churning in the depths of his stomach, making unease trickle up his throat and leave a bad taste in his mouth.

Apprehension.

Something was different.

The studio felt too quiet, too silent, like it was dead.

The air was thick with something unidentified, making it a little hard to breathe.

The shadows flickered, shying away from something out of his sight.

 _What was happening?_

Roy stopped in his tracks, frowning nervously, sending a longing glance at the practice room, before heading back down the way he'd came, going to investigate.

If possible, as he made his way back down the stairs, the air felt heavier, thicker, clogging his lungs.

It was when he was nearing the 2nd floor when he first realized what was wrong.

The air was visible.

And it was graying quickly, turning blacker by the second.

Smoke.

The cool air blowing from the open windows felt unnaturally warm, the temperature creeping up.

Fire. There was a fire in the studio.

Flashes of flames and falling rocks filled his mind, freezing him in horror.

He remembered screaming. Someone screaming his name as the flickering flames burned his-

He shook his head violently.

Now was not the time to take a trip down memory lane.

Not now, when there was a fire in his world.

Calmly, or, at least as calm as one could get caught in a fire accident, he tried to remember all those fire drills back when he was younger.

The information came to him in jumbles, almost impossible to figure out.

" _Cover your nose with a towel, a wet towel would be best."_

 _ **He stared at the small match in his fingers, staring at the building then back at his superior officer.**_

" _ **You're good with flames, right? Send those criminals back to the hell they crawled out of."**_

His shaking hands pulled out a small napkin as he tried to steady himself against the onslaught of memories.

" _Get out as fast as possible. Make sure to use the stairs."_

 _ **Through the open window, he could see the scarred faces of said criminals, and among hard expressions he could see frightened ones, horror etched onto their skin.**_

" _ **What are you waiting for," the faceless officer spoke, lips twisting into a cruel smile. "Give them the torture they deserve."**_

He shook his head wildly, the smile still haunting him. Getting out…. He needed to get out... He was already halfway there… he should be fine.

" _Get low to the ground…"_

 _ **He lit the match, covered it in oil, and before he could think about what he was doing, he threw it through the open window into the enclosed room.**_

 _ **Moments later, pillars of fire burst from the window, and deathly shrieks split through his ears.**_

 _ **One desperate woman, still burning, screaming in pain, hoisted herself up the open window, tumbling out a flaming mess.**_

 _ **She reached out a desperate hand, still yelling incoherently, eyes rolling in their sockets crazily.**_

 _ **A gunshot pierced his ears before the light in her eyes died out, her body tumbling to the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut.**_

 _ **Her blood soaked the ground, reflecting a ghostly orange, flickering flames roaring besides the scarlet puddle.**_

 _ **Roy looked away nauseously, his friends' faces in the corner of his eye.**_

 _ **Maes…..**_

 _ **Riza…..**_

The screams of that woman rang in his ears as he somehow managed to convince his trembling legs to crouch down, moving down the stairs, fingers just barely scraping the cracked ground.

" _If anything on your person catches on fire, remember to stop, drop, and roll."_

 _ **Roy coughed, lungs burning, as he looked through the fire, desperately searching for even a tiny glimpse of his best friends.**_

 _ **He stumbled through the rubble, feet catching on fallen debris.**_

 _ **He called out despite his scratchy throat, his wild calls barely making it out of his mouth.**_

 _ **A faint voice called back from over a hill of boulders.**_

" _ **Mustang?! Is that you?"**_

 _ **Roy felt a slimmer of hope reappear in his brain.**_

 _ **It couldn't be… was that…?**_

" _ **Riza?!" He rushed towards her voice blindly, feet slipping in his haste as he continued to yell her name.**_

" _ **Riza! Are you all right? Where's Maes?" His foot caught on a large rock embedded into the earth and he crashed down painfully, body falling onto a sea of sharp shrapnel.**_

 _ **But he was up again immediately, regardless of the flashing pain from his swelling bruises.**_

 _ **In a matter of seconds, he had managed to make his way over to the blonde, quickly kneeling by her side in worry.**_

" _ **Don't worry Roy, I'm fine." She spoke, her voice tired and waning. But nevertheless, she pulled herself up.**_

 _ **Roy instantly moved to help her up, noticing the blood coating her shoulder.**_

" _ **Do you know where Maes is?" His friend stiffened at the question, her sad gaze meeting his gaze for a millisecond, before turning it quietly away, opting instead to stare at the bloodstained rocks.**_

 _ **Roy's breath caught in his throat.**_

 _ **No….. No. That couldn't be.**_

 _ **What was Riza doing… why…. Why wasn't she answering…..?**_

" _ **Riza," His voice was cold, hard. It sounded foreign to even his own ears, but he didn't care. "Where is Maes."**_

 _ **The other still refused to answer, a tense silence drifting throughout the battleground.**_

 _ **After a few moments, Hawkeye reluctantly turned her head towards a large pile of rubble.**_

" _ **He…. He's over there, sir."**_

 _ **Roy stood quietly, a strange calm huddling over him, covering his senses.**_

 _ **It was a calm before a storm.**_

 _ **His footsteps echoed in his ears like the rapid fire of the enemy soldiers.**_

 _ **Unfeeling, he reached the pile of debris.**_

 _ **Quietly, he reached out a hand and, with a little effort, managed to heave over the large boulder flattening the whole thing.**_

 _ **A pale hand extended outwards from underneath another slab of stone.**_

 _ **Small rivers of blood came from the same spot, trickling outwards slowly.**_

 _ **For a moment he just stared at it all, unmoving, unfeeling….**_

 _ **Then slowly, his brain realized. He was in shock.**_

 _ **As he put his hands down on the rock, he felt a slight pain from one of them.**_

 _ **His eyes landed on a small piece of glass implanted in his palm.**_

 _ **Not just any piece of glass.**_

 _ **It was a part of Maes glasses. Had been a part of Maes glasses.**_

 _ **It was as if the small pinprick of pain from the glass had started a chain reaction.**_

 _ **A deep pain surged from within him, far greater than anything he had felt before.**_

 _ **It burned at his core far stronger and painfully than even the fire that had ravaged the battlefield.**_

 _ **His knees gave out beneath him as he continued to stare, unable to look away, at the bloodied, pale hand.**_

 _ **Hot tears fell out of his eyes but he made no move to wipe them away.**_

" _ **No… no…."**_

" _ **Maes…"**_

 _ **A torn photo of three laughing best friends in military uniforms just barely peeked out from beneath the rock, burnt and bloodstained.**_

 _ **Roy shrieked as his body tore itself in two on the inside.**_

" _ **MAES!"**_

Roy desperately tried to shake away the memory of the torn corpse of his friend from his mind, but the tendrils stubbornly clung there, keeping his friend's lifeless eyes staring straight at him.

Roy finally managed to stumble down the last few steps and into the main lobby.

The fire was raging dangerously close to the stairs, the ceiling already close to collapsing into a fiery mess on the burning floor of lava.

But incredibly, miraculously, the main door was still pretty intact, and his eyes managed to find a decently safe path towards it.

Sighing in relief shakily, he started out onto his first few steps towards freedom and cool, fresh air, and away from the nightmare of flames.

Halfway there, Roy froze.

The boy.

What about the boy.

What would happen if that mirror of his was destroyed?

Would he…. Would he die?

No… he couldn't lose another person.

He couldn't lose him too.

Roy looked back towards the stairs, then looked longingly at the open exit.

The boy's golden eyes flashed in his mind.

He turned back around, determined, and ran up the stairs, trapping himself in the flaming building.


End file.
